A Guessing Game
by DangerGirl7283
Summary: A bored Swashbuckler. A cheeky bard. A bet. Twenty questions. Let the guessing game begin. Haer'Dalis/F!Bhaalspawn, light fluff and an attempt at humor.


_Author's Note: Hello friends! I have finally gotten around to pretty much completely rewriting my very first FanFic, Battle of the Bards. This is essentially a whole new animal, the only thing staying the same is the basic pairing (Haer'Dalis/F!Bhaalspawn). I very much hope you enjoy it - I had a lot of fun rewriting it! Please feel free to let me know via the comments or PMs what you think. Thanks! You're awesome!_

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The rain pounded mercilessly against the window, the walls trembling with the occasional rumble of thunder. Kaythel lounged back on the bed, arms crossed behind her head and still fully clothed. It was very late, she knew: most of the rowdiness downstairs had quieted down to a soft hum, the drunkards having either passed out or left the inn. Somehow, though, she remained wide awake, likely due to the cacophonous hubbub in her mind. It seemed that sleep was determined to avoid her tonight.

A crack of lightning flashed across the sky, drawing her attention outdoors. The heavy downpour pelted against the window, begging entrance to the coziness of her room. A scowl crossed her features at the thought of a little humanized raindrop pleading for a warm bed to rest in. _Not happening._

Heaving a great sigh of boredom, she sat up and shook out her hair, determined to save herself from her own vivid imagination. _With a drink_, she added with a smirk.

She hoisted herself off of the bed, strode across the floor, and flung the door open wide, snatching up her iconic feathered hat and plopping it onto her head as she passed the coat tree. Her heels clicked loudly down the stairs and the rapier that never left her side lightly scraped against the wall. The few remaining stragglers in the inn stared at her with almost baffled expressions; she soaked it in – the whole point of being extravagant was to attract attention, after all.

She bent her waist and splayed out her arms in a theatrical bow to her admirers, only rising when her overly large hat threatened to dislodge itself from her head. The inn patrons faced away from her, unsure whether to be dazzled or offended by her eccentric display.

She gaited over to the bar and fairly ungracefully sat on a stool. "An ale, kind sir, if you don't mind," she demanded cheerily. The bartender glanced at her from the corner of his eye, unimpressed with her showiness, then made a _hrmph_ sound as he reached for a mug.

"Two, if you would be so kind, my good man," a smooth voice nearby added.

Kaythel turned to see one of her companions seated next to her. She feigned boredom, but wondered how he could sneak up on her so easily. "Haer'Dalis," she greeted monotonously.

"Kaythel," he countered. "Tell me, my raven, what keeps you awake in these wee hours of the night?"

She smirked and threw her arms outwards in a stretch. "My mind races like horses on a track. It would be impossible for one to sleep with such a ruckus!" She slowly crossed one leg over the other.

"And what, pray tell, plagues your mind," he inquired, leaning onto the bar.

She folded her arms and leaned closer to him. "Only thoughts of you, my dear sparrow."

Haer'Dalis laughed. "Of course. Fantasies of me would be enough to torment any woman!"

Kaythel chuckled. "Did I say 'fantasies'? I do believe that's wishful thinking, there, my friend."

"Ah!" He thumped his hand on his chest. "You wound me, my raven! You cut me to my core."

"_Tsk_. 'Tis the only way to do it, I'm afraid. Your ego is enough to keep us both afloat."

"_My_ ego? Now let us not start this tit-for-tat business. 'Tis most unseemly!"

"Ha! Since when have I cared about unseemliness?"

Haer'Dalis opened his mouth to retort, but stopped short as he searched through his memory. He could not seem to place a time when Kaythel had cared about propriety for the sake of being a proper lady. "Touché, my dear."

"Thank you," she concluded the debate with a smirk. For the first time, she noticed the drink before her. After taking a sip, she set the tankard down and huffed a melodramatic sigh. "Ugh, save me from my boredom, Haer'Dalis! If I can't find something soon, I'll have to wander the streets in search of a good fool to bother."

The blue-haired tiefling pursed his lips in thought. He glanced around, looking for something remotely interesting, landing for a moment on a table, her hat, the bartender, her chest, a piano, her legs, and finally settling on his own tankard.

"I propose a competition: You think of something – anything you like! If I can guess within twenty questions what you are thinking of, you will owe me a favor."

"And if you can't guess?" Kaythel asked, intrigued.

"If I cannot guess within that limit, then I will purchase – from my own share of funds – anything that we consume this evening. Fair?"

She held out her hand. "Fair." He took her hand with a smirk and raised it to his lips. "First question."

The bard crossed his arms, thinking. "Mayhap you think of a person?"

She chuckled. "No."

"An object, then?"

"No."

"Not a person, nor an object." His brow furrowed and he motioned with his hand. "Perhaps something intangible, such as event of sorts?"

"Yes."

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh! A grand event?"

"Yes," she replied. "A grand event."

"A large, wondrous, grandiose event?" he continued, getting rather excited.

"You digress, dear bard," Kaythel droned with a grin plastered to her cheeks. "It is not as large an event as you make it out to be."

"Would that be a 'no,' then, my raven?"

"No. Next question!"

Haer'Dalis raised his hand and pinched his thumb and forefinger together. "Perhaps a small event?"

"Such a wasteful question! No."

"Wasteful!" Haer'Dalis exclaimed as though wounded. "Never! Could this event be a joyous occasion?"

She inclined her head. "Indeed."

"Hmm." He stroked his chin. "It is neither large nor small and joyous, yet it is grand?"

"Haven't we established this, already?" said Kaythel, nearly exasperated but chuckling all the same. "I am counting this as a question. Yes is your answer."

"But what if I hadn't intended that to be my question?" he argued.

"Then I am counting this one. Carry on!"

"You wound me, my raven! Is what you think of native to the Prime?"

"You mean _this_ world?" she clarified. "No."

"Really! It can be found amongst the Planes, as well?" His face lit up in excitement.

"I imagine so, yes."

"Wonderful! Intriguing, truly. Can it then be discovered?"

"No."

"Earned, then."

"I suppose."

"Earned as a gift?"

"Yes."

"And received as such?" Haer'Dalis pressed.

"You ramble," Kaythel admonished. "Yes."

"Well then, if it is a gift, then can it be lost?"

"I don't believe so," she responded after a moment's hesitation.

Haer'Dalis smirked. "I will take a guess." He leaned against the bar, his expression clearly showing his belief that he had already won the game. "Could it be, perhaps, life?"

She grinned. "Nope."

His face fell into that of confusion. "Companionship?"

"No."

"Surely the answer is time, my raven!" he asserted rather pleadingly.

Kaythel laughed. "Not at all. Dare I ask what prompted this answer? It has nothing to do with the questions you've asked!"

He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Perhaps so, but many great riddles end in time."

"Except this one. Two questions left, dear sparrow."

"What about…" He waggled his eyebrows. "…love?"

"_Pfft_! No. Last question."

Haer'Dalis worked his mouth in search of a redeeming question. This had been so much harder than he had expected! Of course, he should have known to expect the unexpected from his dear leader – after all, they were more alike than most cared to admit.

After a few moments, he settled on grinning sheepishly and asking, "Will this sparrow get a second try at the game?"

She beamed as she bent forward towards the tiefling. Lacing her fingers into his shirt, she pulled him closer to her and answered softly, "I believe you owe me a drink, my dear Doomguard."

A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. "It seems that indeed I do." He reached for a wayward lock of whitish-blonde hair. "If I may inquire, my raven, what were you thinking of?"

Kaythel smirked mischievously and replied, "That, my sparrow, is a secret that you may never know." Quickly, she planted a kiss on his cheek and then turned towards the bartender.

"Another round – on him!"

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_Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Kaythel and maybe two of the questions. The others __are courtesy of my mom and brother (whom I thank very much for their patience with my antics). The rest belongs to BioWare. Not me. (Though, owning Haer'Dalis would be nice.)  
_


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